More like them
by hotpink jellybean
Summary: "We're never gonna, or at least not anymore, be like them, because we have you." One shot set after the return of blowholes revenge
1. Chapter 1

AN: Random little one shot I made up.

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><p>It felt like the first time in weeks that I finally got some sleep.<p>

My memory had started to come back a little. I guess there are some things even technology cant take away. Kowalski had taken some tests too, saying that most of all memoies will be back in a few weeks. But he did say that some of my memories will never come back. I wonder if those memories are important.

I wanted so badly to focus on sleeping. I was exhausted. Walking over thousands of miles to New York, riding along the sea on a raft, and coming back to battle against your arch enemy takes a lot out of you. But I couldn't fall asleep no matter how tired I was.

Private was sleeping on the bunk below me. As if he was sleeping. The penguin was just turning over and over. Every once in a while he would sit up, like he wanted to speak, but then put his head on the pillow again. I knew something was on his mind.

"Private?" I whispered. "Something wrong?"

The shufling ceased and for a moment I thought he had fallen asleep. Until a soft voiced asked in the darkness, "What do you think it's like to be them?"

"Who?"

Again, Private took a moment to answer. "The lobsters. The ones working for Blowhole. What do you think they think of themselves?"

Honestly, I really didn't care. Although I was a little curious on why Private had been thinking of this. "I don't know," I answered. "I guess like they're important. Like all races think they are."

"I guess I might've beleved that a few days ago, but not today. I mean, with some insects, they don't have a mind. Not really. The mind is the queen or whatever and the other ants or something are the body. Isn't that like Blowhol and his lobsters? He's the brain, and the lobsters are the body. He tells them what to do, and they just... do it."

I sighed. There was really nothing to this conversation. I could be asleep right now. And I really need some sleep. "So? What's the point?" I asked, more harshly then intended.

Private shook his head, like he was still pondering it himself.

"It's just, well... they have minds you know? They must all have thoughts and different lives and history- but then poof, it doesn't matter anymore. How can one person, like blowhole just not care? It's like taking someone's life, but worse. Because they're still alive, but not really. You know?"

My eyes were begging to close, but ignored it. "Gee Private, I don't know. Stalin did something kind of like that. So does a lot of dictators out there. Force armies to kill their own people, or put them in work camps and leave them to starve. They don't care about those peoples individual life stories. Blowhole doesn't either."

I heard Private shutter.

"That's just so terrible. How easy it is now to just take someone's life. How some people can do it withot a second thought. Geez... how does someone like Blowhole or Stalin live like that? How do they do that?"

"Because they think what they're doing is right. Like 'My God wanted me to do this' or 'The government is run like this so it's okay'." I still really didn't care. But it was obvious that Prvate needed to talk.

He paused, thinking.

"But Blowhole doesn't do it bcause of religion, or race, or government or anything like that. He just... does it. Why does he think he's right?"

"I don't know Private!" I hissed, tired and angry at the conversation. "Maybe he is!" I blurted it out before I cold even think. Right away I was begging that I could take it back.

I thought Private was gong to gasp, or shout at me, or give me a very spiritual speech. But instead he just sighed, disappointed.

"We get more and more like him everyday, don't we?"

I couldn't believe what he had said. What did he mean? No we don't. That little outburst of mine meant nothing. I don't pay attention to what I say or do when I'm realy tired. He knows that. There was that one time that I was so tired, that I thought Private was a traitor, and I... I thought I had killed him.

_"You should be with Manfredi and Johnson! You know, one up there, one down there."_

_"Well isn't this a pretty picture! The whole unit in the pocky!"_

_"No mercy Private!"_

Was Private right? Were we turning more like blowhole everyday? Surely I of all people would notice...

"That's never gonna happen Private." I said finally, coming to a decision.

"It's never gonna happen, or at least not anymore, because you're here with us."


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I'm not sure what to say to this. I was bored and wanted to write this. Mostly because I've been reading fanfics about how Private is can't find his role in the group. Even Wikipedia says that! I don't think that's true though. His role in the group, in my opinion, is to be the Moral Compass. It helps a lot too because of how ruthless the others are. Anyone else agree? This is gonna be in two parts. You kinda have to read it all to understand what's going on.

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><p>Skipper's POV:<p>

"You can't win Hans! We will-"

The words were thrown back in my beak by a sharp stinging somewhere in my back. It felt hard and ragged in my flesh. I could feel it twisting in my blood stream, tearing up my nerves. Little sharp spikes poked holes in my feathers. Of course. It was a claw.

And it was killing me.

A sound got caught in my throat. It wasn't quite a sob, or a scream. Was more like a gasp really. I couldn't feel anything in my lower half anymore. I was numb on that half of me. The lobster was still there. Still slaughtering me. I tried to turn, to punch him away, but my lower self didn't agree with me. I flailed my flippers desperately to escape. I was helpless.

"What was that you were saying Skipper?" Hans taunted. I couldn't see him anymore. He must have been too far away.

I could see my team though. Rico was thrashing anything he could barf up at the lobsters. You could tell it was a last resort though. Blood had covered his eyes so he couldn't see. I wasn't sure if he even had eyes still in his sockets. Private was up against the wall, trapped while maybe six lobsters held him there and was gutting him. The hadn't gotten past the ender flesh, but it was so close. Kowalski was closest to me. He just stood there, taking hit after hit. I felt an urge to yell and scream at him to fight.

We couldn't possibly win. We were dying. A few more minutes and we'd be within the dead.

"Retreat!" I cried out. I could hear the desperation in my voice. "We need to get out of here!" Another numbing feeling shot through me. Was the lobster still clawing at my back? Still tearing at my precious blood that should've been covered by tissue and muscle and flesh and-

"How Skipper? I can hardly move!" The cracks in Kowalski's voice told me that he was at the end of his stregnth.

My mouth was filling up with blood. And I could taste it. A dry and salty liquid. I had a sudden imagine of Manfredi and Johson flash in my head. Strange...

"Manouver eighteen R! Eighten R!" I screamed as hard as I could, but I could how quiet my voice was getting.

My stregnth was gone. It had vanished. I had never felt more helpless in my life. Never so desperate to hold on to the thin string of life. My eyes closed tightly. Just make it end. My body was numb, so cold that it felt like I was burning. If that was possible. My mind was swimming like I was dizzy, except I wasn't. The world around me was cold and hot and wet and dry all at the same time. I could feel them, but couldn't at the same time.

Was this...

"Skipper? Hello. Wake up Skipper."

The voice was said in slow motion, drawing out the words. I forced my eyes to open slowly. Black and white creatures met my awakening eyes.

Oh right. My team. I was conscious enough now. I shook my head vaguly to get rid of the dizziness. I could still taste blood in my mouth. My blood. I was scared of that, but I didn't let my team see it. Instead I bravely spit the red gunk in a corner of wherever we are.

"Uh..." I held my head in one flipper as if it would stop the world from swaying.

"Take a breather Skipper. You almost died. But we need to hurry. We're not out yet." Kowalski said, putting his flipper around my shoulders to help me up.

My feet staggered, but I kept myself up. "Where are we?" I noticed Rico and Private sitting away from us. Tears were running down Private's cheeks, bandages covered his body, mostly his stomach. Rico had a bandage ontop of his left eye, and several other deep gases and bruises. "Is everyone okay? What happened?"

"In an alleyway three blocks away from the weapons warehouse that Hans and Blowhole's lobsters, which are apparently following Hans rule now, were raiding. Everyone is okay, or at least will live. We managed get out of there when you were unconscious from an old disposal shaft. Ad when we got here I bandaged... _most_ of our wounds. I-I'm sorry Skipper. I didn't think that-"

"It's okay Kowalski." I replied. "Okay Men!" Private and Rico looked up, surprised. I was surprised too. I didn't think my voice could be that loud, considering what just happened maybe an hour before. "The zoo opens in a few more hours, and for all we know Hans is still after us. Lets move."

I jumped up a small bit, my dizziness made it look like to me as if I was falling down a cliff. A cliff with gagged spiked rocks at the bottom, and I was jumping down towards it. The whole time I was falling down, the world was spining and turning around my body.

I hit the ground on my stomach and a mix of pain and wooziness struck me. By instinct, I bounced back. My head was ringing badly. I wondered if I had some head truama from the fight.

I chuckled nervously. "Um... on second thought, let's walk. We have enough time."

The team didn't question it, so we started walking. We were close to a street we had to cross, but I had enough time to think.

I had almost gotten all of us killed. That sentence kept appearing in my mind. In big black flashing letters it was coming at me. Kicking and screaming like a small child. Or a lemur. That could've been our last mission. Our last breath. _My _last breath. I know I'm always supposed to be thinking of the safety of my team, but I was so scared because my life had been so close from leaving the world. And really, I cared about my life too.

I was so close from losing it. I was shaking now from the fear of that. What about my team? They could've lost their lives too. I couldn't stres how lucky we were that none of us were lying dead and bloody in a weapon warehouse right now. And it would've been my fault. All my fault.

"Oh my God! Did I hit it!"

"What is it?"

"Get it outta there!"

The sounds of angry roars knocked me out of my thoughts. I spun around to see Private, in the middle of the street we had crossed.

"Private!" I cried, running at him. He looked dazed. His eyes were glazed with fear and guilt and he wasn't moving. His flippers were huggig his chest. I wasn't sure if it was from the pain of his stomach wounds, or something. When I was next to him, I shook him a little before shooing him quickly from the road.

"Six of them." He said when we were in another alleyway. His voice sounded far away, like he wasn't even conscious. "I killed six of them in there. Maybe seven." He grabbed my flipper tightly. "Skipper! How do I deal with this?"

Now? Why now. We had just had the worst mission I can remember. I didn't want to deal with right now. I was too busy thinking on how I had almost lost me and my teams lives. How could I even start thinking of the lobsters I might've killed in there?

I didn't answer him. Just walked away ruther down the alley.

He followed me. "We get more and more like them. Don't we?" He paused for an answer. I couldn't answer. Couldn't even think of what to say. "Skippah!"

"No." I answered simply. The worst answer to give Private. His tears doubled and he was crying noiselessly now.

He turned around. "I'll walk the rest of the way." He announced.

I had an urge to run to him. To hug him and tell everything was okay. I wanted to answer the questions he was desperate for someone to answer. To give him the conversation he needed. To tell him _something. _

But I didn't.

Kowalski coughed uncomfortably. "Orders Skipper?"

I was still watching Private walk away. Sighing, I replied, "I don't know Kowalski. Do me a favor though? Make sure he gets home okay?"

He went racing after the youngest member before the words were out of my mouth.

* * *

><p>Private's POV:<p>

"Are you okay Private?"

"No." I said, more harshly then intended.

_Oh Oh Oh  
>Oh Oh Oh<br>You see my anxious heart  
>You see what I am feeling<em>

Kowalski creased his eyebrows. "Well what's wrong? It is always very obvious when you're upset."

"How can you even ask? I _killed_ back there Kowalski! I might've been killed back there!" I fumed. Was he not feeling anything about what just happerned? He was there too. He almost died too. He most likely killed too. Was he not caring at all that he took someone's life?

_And when I fall apart  
>You are there to hold me<br>How great your love for me  
>Now I see what you're thinking<br>Your voice is my healing  
>Without you I just can't get by<em>

"Animals kill." He shrugged. "That's the way they are. Survival of the fittest. The food chain. The food pyramid. We eat fish. Dead or alive. What's the difference?"

"That's different. It's to survive. I had choice. I did it because I could. We could've gotten out perfectly fine. Without blood on our hands. But we didn't. We stayed because we could. We killed because we could."

He didn't say anything.

"Do you not get that?"

_So I'm hanging on to every word you speak  
>'Cause it's all I need<br>Hanging on to every word you say  
>To light up my way<br>Even every little whisper  
>I'm hanging on as if it were my life<br>I'm hanging on  
>Oh Oh Oh<br>Oh Oh Oh_

He nodded. "I get where you're coming from Private. But you didn't really have a choice. You were fighting- _killing- _to survive. To get out of there alive. It's still the same as survival of the fittest."

I shook my head in frusteration. No. He didn't get it.

I wished Skipper was here instead. He would know just what to sy. He wouldn't be spitting facts in my face. Telling me it was okay to kill. Kowalski was just but saying the words 'you should've killed more.'

It was disgusting and horrible to think of.

_And when the darkness falls  
>I can't see what's before me<br>Your voice is like the dawn  
>Always there to guide me<br>Without you I just can't get by_

"Okay Kowalski. That may be tue for some animals. Who have to kill. Who have to survive like that. But not with me. I'm my own person. I can think and feel and love. And I know when something isn't right. Like killing. That was somebody's life Kowalski. And it's gone. Because of me."

"Well-"

"That lobster had a life. Friends and family. Thoughts and personality and a whole life story. Now it's gone. Because of me. It's all my fault. Six of them. Maybe seven That's the worst part. Wondering if the seventh was dead or not."

He sighed. "Private. I don't know what to say to you. Death is a part of life. Killing is part of the animal life. We all know that you're the one most intertwined in morals and ethis but..."

"But what?"

His cheekbones shifted like they usually did when he wa thinking hard on something. "But it was someone you didn't even know. Someone who was trying to kill you. How can you feel bad about that?"

So I'm hanging on to very word you speak  
>'Cause it's all I need<br>Hanging on to every word you say  
>To light up my way<br>Even every little whisper  
>I'm hanging on as if it were my life<br>I'm hanging on

I was stunned. He didn't get it. He didn't understand. It was a life. A living, breathing, thinking, life. A life with well, a life. How could he not see how precious that was? How hard it was to know that that was on your chest?

"You don't get it..." I whispered.

"I think I understand it better than you do right now Private."

You know me better than I know myself  
>Better than anybody else<br>Your love is sounding like a ringing bell  
>Oh, Oh, I won't let go<br>Oh Oh Oh  
>Oh Oh Oh<br>La La La La La La La La

That hurt. That really hurt. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. The bottom of my beak was quivering in what was either anger or sadness. I sped up. I didn't want to talk to him anymore. How could he not see what was wrong about killing? It's the worst thing you could ever do... more or less.

"Private!"

The tears fell to the ground. It was making a trail of tears. Murderer. That's what I was. Oh God. How could that be my label? The cute, young penguin who loved unicorns and bunnies and ducklings- was a killer. That little penguin had had a life in his hands, and went in for the kill.

Was there a lunacorn out there that had this problem? No. Probably not. Because people aren't supposed to kill.

Hanging on to every word you speak  
>'Cause it's all I need<br>Hanging on to every word you say  
>To light up my way<br>Even every little whisper  
>I'm hanging as if it were my life<br>I'm hanging on

Murder. I had murdered today.

Skipper. I had to talk to Skipper.

AN: Good? Did you have any favorite sentences? Sorry if there are a lot of mistakes, half way through my keyboard and fanfiction was getting messed up so I had to retype many sentences and paragraphs. Oh and if it wasn't clear, Hans had lobsters because he took over Blowhole's lobster army after Blowhole lost his memory and now thinks he's Flippy. Sorry, that part of the special bugged me. He had a whole lair filled with lobsters- so where did they go after blowhole lost his memory? Hans was in Blowhole's lair at the time so it does make sense that he would takeover. Thoughts on that?


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Sorry for the quick updates, kinda. I'm just getting a lot of inspiration to write these little one shots. Oh, and right now I'm mainly focusing on Skipper and Private's relationship, but if any of you want me to try a Kowalski or Rico, I'll attempt. Again, sorry if there's mistakes. I managed to fix my internet problems, but my keyboard is still a little messed up. This one shot is humanised.

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><p>I searched the crowd until I spotted him. He looked so different. More polished. His hair was the same messy blonde, but more combed. His same light blue eyes was scanning around for me. They had a more mature look in them. His face was shaved too. It felt weird to see that though. He never had shaved before. He was wearing a clean, ironed dress shirt. With them, he had a matching dress pants. He was holding his suitcase and a brief case by his sides. God, he just looked so professional.<p>

I snuck up behind him. I didn't want to look straight in his face yet. I just couldn't. He looked so mature and polished and yet still so young. I felt out of place, coming up behind him. I hadn't bothered to shave, brush my hair or even brushed my teeth. I was wearing dark, faded, old blue jeans that had several stains on them, and a simple grey T-shirt. I had never of dreamed that he would ever look more sure of himself than me. When I was close enough, I finally spoke.

"Private."

He spun around when he heard my voice. He looked surprised. Still looked as perfect as ever. I couldn't see him that good from far away. He looked way more grown up up close, but at the same time still young. He didn't hug me right away like he would've done. He just stood there, biting his lip and not knowing what to do.

I grinned despite myself. "We look like quite a pair. A professional looking person and a person like me."

He smiled back weakly but his heart wasn't into it. "So, our plane leaves in a little bit. We should go."

"Yeah."

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><p><em>The phone rang in my hand, as I was about to punch in the numbers. The caller ID said unknown number, but I knew the number well enough to know who it was. I punched the speaker button and waited.<em>

_"Skipper?" His voice asked, bouncing off the stone walls. "Are you there?"_

_I knew my voice was raspy and hard from the whisky I had been drinking earlier. Oh well. Private knew I had been drinking for awhile after he left. "Yeah." I answered. "You heard?"_

_"Yeah from Marlene. I was at work."_

_"Work." I hissed quietly so he wouldn't hear. Did you cry after you heard? You were probably in your big fancy office and stained the fresh carpet with your tears. I bet your boss would love that. Why didn't you stay here? It wouldn't of happened if you were still here!_

_"Are you okay Skippah?"_

_I didn't answer. Was I _supposed _to be okay? Was I okay when you left us? No. Who was I supposed to be okay with... _him _gone permately now?_

_"Is Kowalski there Skippah? Is he holding up okay?"_

_I shook my head. Pretending that he could see me. "No. He's still in the hospital... He said he's gonna go to the... you know... on his own."_

_"Oh. Well are you going with anyone?"_

_"No."_

_"Wanna go together? I'll fly back there. Pick you up and we'll go."_

_Yeah 'cause your not here, like you should be, I thought. "Where are you anyway?"_

_"I'm at a conference in Washington. I've really just be taking notes for, you know, the Prime Minister and other stuff. But he can survive a few days without me. I mean this is my team..."_

Was your team..._ His voice sounded so usual, so calm. But I could tell it was fake. His work. It is his job now, being an aid for the Prime Minister, but it doesn't feel like it. Even though he hasn't been here for a few years, it still feels like he's part of the team. _

_"Yeah I guess. The... thing..." Oh God I can't even say it, "is in a few days, that'll give you enough time to get everything sorted out. I'll buy my plane ticket and stuff..."_

_"Okay Skippah okay. But... geez I miss him already. I... are you gonna be okay Skippah? I- I just can't..."_

_That made me lose it. The first time in days that it actually hit me. He's dead. Dear God, he's never coming back. He's never..._

_I coughed out the first set of tears, my mouth and head was shaking. I could hear him whimpering on the other end. I couldn't keep control after that, not after that. I should've been strong in front of him. I cried. The salty liquid from my eyes were gettig heavier and heavier and dropping in my mouth and on the floor. Dead. He's dead._

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><p>It went on like that for a few hours. Eventually- <em>sometime- <em>during that night we just sat in our rooms, hugging ourselfs and hearing the other person's breathing on the other end. I think it was both of our breaking points.

Now here we were. Thousands of feet above the air flying in a heep of metal.

I glanced at him. He was staring out the window, lost in his own thoughts. I almost felt like I could read his mind, since I knew what he was thinking. Although, I think anyone could realise what he was thinking.

He turned over and our eyes met. His beautiful light blue eyes. It felt out of place that a black pupil was in the midst of the color. Nothing about Private was ever black. Everything about him was colorful. Wether it be blue, hot pink, or blood red. The colors were also very unique. Not a simple solid color like me. Green, brown, red.

Still staring at his eyes, I saw tears welling up in them. "I miss him already."

"I know."

I held out my hand, palm up. Tears had welled in my eyes too. Private forced a smile and took my hand. We stayed like that for the rest of the fly to New York.

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><p>"I'm surprised. I thought you and the team were still in New York."<p>

I shrugged. "There's a lot that changed when you left." _We left after you left. Because we couldn't stand being in a place you were, but aren't there anymore. To face the fact that you weren't there, like you should be._

He gave his 'protective father' look. "Don't tell me you're still holding that against me. We were offered the world after that one mission remember? Hans almost destroyed all of America! I took the award that was given afterward."

"Keep your eyes on the road." I instructed, purposly avoiding the topic.

"Don't change the subject. Or we could start talking about how you took up drinking when I left. Or that time that you got _way_ too drunk and almost threw yourself off a bridge?"

"That was-"

"Skippah, you punished and yelled at Kowalski for letting you live! You can't act like that Skippah. I'm not... dead."

Dead. The world got a little darker and quieter. More than when he actually died. Oh geez... Rico... why did...

* * *

><p><em>"RICO!" <em>

_My scream sounded less like I was yelling his name, but instead a high pitched squeal. My knees trembled and I fell to my knees. My hands were shaking and just about holding my head. My whole body was shaking. His blood... it was splattered in my face, some drops had dripped into my open, screaming mouth. _

_His scream had been got in his throat half way through his terrifying- almost endless- screech. There was nothing he could do though. Nothing I could do either. I had seen the enemy coming. Saw chainsaw that Rico had dropped in his hands. I knew it was going to pierce through his flesh, all the way through. Yet, I was frozen. I couldn't feel anything until after it happened._

_Oh my... the chainsaw was roaring too. The spikes were runing around it so fast I couldn't see them. The sound it made was deathly loud. When it cut through Rico's- flesh, intestines, life- the sound was gushy and would live with me forever. It sounded like hands crushing mud in between its fingers. _

_Kowalski had seemed to gain enough consciousness to go after the madman ho had done this. I stayed and just stared at the sight. Big chunks, little chunks of his body were laid across the floor. Blood, endless blood... who knew the human body had that much blood? It had spread across the concrete floor, some was even seeping into my jeans I was wearing. _

_"Rico..."_

* * *

><p>I couldn't think of it anymore. That was as close as I came to remembering before I completely broke down.<p>

"I'm sorry." Private apologised. "It's just... it isn't your fault Skippah. Me leaving? There was nothing you could have done. It was my choice. Rico... I wasn't there but... that wasn't your fault either."

"You weren't there..." I echoed, still dazed from my memory.

* * *

><p><em>"Gah..." <em>

_At first I thought he was trying to say something, but no. It was just an esperation of air. His eyes were still open. The eyelids had no intention of closing. I think that was the worst part. His eyes were supposed to be a dangerous blue, full of life. Now they were cold and lifeless, and staring at me. I knew he wasn't really staring at me, that was terrible. Dead eyes were staring at me. Through me. Into me. _

_"Rico..."_

_It was the only words I could process right now. I wanted to say something besides that, but I couldn't. What could I have said? What do you say to a dead corpse that was dead because of you?_

_"Oh Rico..."_

* * *

><p>Private nodded, his eyes were on the road. "I know. But that doesn't mean I don't still care about you and Kowalski and... Rico. That's why I'm here now right?"<p>

"But you weren't there then."

He bit his lip and pulled into a crowded parking lot. He parked at the very front and got out. He started to leave, but then turned and said, "You should come by later okay?"

I nodded and shuffled into the drivers seat. "Yeah, sure."

"I'm being serious. I don't think I'll get through the night since the... thing is tomorrow.

I looked him the eye the best I could. He still looked as good as he ever did. But something seemed different.

"I promise Private."

* * *

><p>AN: Umm... you know, I didn't like this one all that much for some reason. Did I make it too confusing? Or could you follow it kinda? Also, don't hold the whole Private became the Prime Minister's aid against me. It was the first thing I thought of and used it. Also, the mission that offered them the world was supposed to be less detailed. And I made the memorial service for Rico a little fast because... I don't know. I guess I could've let it be a little longer... ugh that's what I didn't like about this.<p> 


	4. Manfredi and Johnson

AN: I just randomly thought of this, mostly because of all the reasons Skipper makes up about how Manfredi and Johnson died. I figured that he just can't keep up with all the stories. Maybe because it's too painful for him to remember? That's just what I think.

'Private? You should be with Manfredi and Johnson! You know, one up there one down there.' -Skipper, Break-sphere.

Humanized.

* * *

><p>"I could've taken 'em!"<p>

That would be Manfredi, of course. Hansome, insane, Manfredi.

Not neccessarily in that order.

We had just finished a mission with the closest call I have ever seen. Skipper, and Rico were at the front. They were trying to ease the atmosphere with jokes, but their hearts weren't really into it. Johnson was behind them, comforting Private, who was having another moral conflict like he usually does after a bad mission.

Where as Manfredi was on his typical adrenaline high, because Manfredi was insane. And I was stuck dealing with it, because Skipper sure wasn't going to.

"You would have _died_ Manfredi. Or is that little inscignifant fact not comprehendable to you?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure." He said dryly. "But I'm serious. We could've taken 'em! There was what, ten of 'em left? Eleven?"

"Try _fifeteen_. With reinforcements coming down the stairs, with our fearless leader fighting blowhole all by himself."

He snorted. "Fifeteen against the six of us? Easy."

"Honestly, Manfredi. You can't see two feet in front of you, Skipper wasn't anywhere close for being back up, Rico was just as crazed as you, Private's inexperienced, and Johnson is always cracking jokes, even when he's being gutted alive."

"And you?"

"I have no flaws."

"..."

"OWW!" I screeched, rubbing my arm.

He ignored me, acting like nothing happened. "Besides, I would've helped you if you were sitting there, getting killed."

"Well, yeah of course you would. You would have died in the process too, but hey, we can't have everything."

* * *

><p>"Rico?" Manfredi's eyes shone a familiar fierce, daring icy blue. His grin was just as daring, his white teeth looked as if they were about to jump out, too terrified of the person's mouth they were in.<p>

The other smiled back, and vomited the first thing he could think of- kaboom. The red stick landed in Manfredi's hands, a small bit of spit on the end of the cylinder.

Manfredi's laugh was horrifying, almost like a laugh a madman would give before stabbing the unsuspecting victim. It was almost appalling, and in all honestly, he was very appalling. Rico could just see veins on his teammates skin poppingup from the heated blood underneath, warmed by the thought of action that Manfredi craved for.

"Lets go," The man hardly contained his giggle before running off.

* * *

><p>"Stand down, Manfredi. Stand down." Skipper ordered, his voice cracking from worry.<p>

Manfredi stood there, just in front of the stairs where the others were escaping. His eyes were bleeding, his panting could be heard above the piercing screams in from the youngest member.

The adrenaline junky laughed. "No way, Skipper. They're gonna die! They're all gonna die!" His last words rang as he charged into battle.

"Manfredi!" Kowalski screamed, with all the air he had in his lungs. His scream turning into a whimper at the end.

Private held his breath. He held his head in his hands. Tears were already streaming down his cheeks, rivers of the salty liquid from his eyes. "Skippah..."

Even their fearless leader had to wipe a tear from his eye, though, he never would have admitted to crying. Finally, he hushed them all by saying, "Men, he went out the way we all thought he would. By laughing."

Nobody said another word. They knew in the hearts that out of all of them, Manfredi was always supposed to be the first to go.

In the end, his end was not selfless. He died, running into battle to fulfill his own selfish needs. What he needed, what he craved, was his undoing.

Manfredi's glass was empty, and could only but filled by blood from his victims.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Kowalski? Guess what?" Johnson grinned.<p>

"What?"

"Chicken butt!" Johnson laughed, earning a puzzled look from the scientist.

"I don't understand. Was that another one of your bad jokes?" He took a moment of thought. "Was that even a joke?"

Johnson glared. "Yeah, duh. You thought it was funny, right Manfredi?"

"No, not really, your funny bone is about as good as your brain power."

"Ouch, Manfredi. Seriously, right through the heart. Your insults are just that bad and original, you know? What about you Private, do you think I'm funny?"

Private smiled sweetly. Like Skipper, Johnson had taken a liking to the youngest. Perhaps even more. You could even say that Johnson loved and cherished Private with a passion. The youngest was like a shining light in his dark, painful past.

"Oh yes Johnson. You're very funny."

Johnson smirked and raised his eyebrows at the other two men. "See? Told you."

Manfredi rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, Johnson. You showed us up."

* * *

><p>"Come on Skipper. A trampoline. Think of it-"<p>

"No."

"It'd be bouncy. Soooo bouncy."

"If you're tryig to imply something, I'm offended."

"Me? Subtle? Puh-lease. Subtle is Rico having-"

"Johnson, go away. I'm serious."

"Aw come on, Skipper. How do you feel knowing that-"

"Do you ever really shut up? No, I really wanna know."

"-Rico dated your ex girlfriend? Then broke up with her. I don't know. I'd be pretty pissed."

"It was like I didn't even matter to her! She dumped me like a piece of trash and moved on to the next one! And from my own unit too!"

"..."

"You know, she's pretty hot. You think I should go out with her?"

"..."

"Do that face again, Skipper! It looks so funny!"

* * *

><p>"PRIVATE!"<p>

"Johnson, he'll get out, trust me." Skipper encouraged, holding Johnson's arm back from the wreckage of newly on fire building.

"Trust you? He's probably gonna _die_ in there because I trusted you!" The man screeched, pulling his arm away. It was the first time the team had ever seen Johnson cry. The sun did not rise in the west, planets were never square, and Johnson did not cry. Those things the team was always sure of.

Kowalski ran up, seconds after escaping the building. As he was gasping for air, he noticed Johnson. "Is he okay?" He asked.

"No!" Johnson answered, yelling. He turned back to the leader. "Skipper! Please! He's gonna die! I can't let that happen! Someone like Private can't die! Especially not like this!"

Skipper gave a stern look. "He'll get out. Rico is still in there and will make sure of it."

Johnson stared back at the building. It was supposed to be a siple mission, or at least that's how it started out. 'In and out', Skipper had said. Last time he'd listen to Skipper. The only thing in his life that was pure good, could, or is in his mind, was dying.

And hell, if that was going to happen, he'd die with that one innocent part of his life.

"No," Johnson stated, starting to jog towards the building, "I'll make sure he gets out."

* * *

><p>Skipper stared at the two mission reports to fill out. Both included the deaths of two of his close friends, and teammates.<p>

Both were complete opposites. One was a cold, horrific, and had died for selfish needs. The other was fun and laid back, meeting his end in a selfless act.

Manfredi, in his mind, was fearless. Also, the leader had to admit to munipulate his dark nature to win in battles. He was also very violent, which is probably why he was such a good friend with Rico. Probably the only person to find a bit of sanity in Rico. Even so, Manfredi's life depended on the thrill he received from a battle. Which, was in the end, his undoing.

Skipper knew Manfredi all his life. From chicklets, to the end of his life, Skipper was always beside the nut. He remembers laughing with his friend, grinning at eachother when a hot girl walked past them, or even saving eachothers lives in the darkest of times, and also having fights with him. Yes, the fearless leader felt a tear coming on remembering his friend who take anyone, and get anyone he wanted.

Johnson was probably the comic relief of the team. He would spend hours trying to get Kowalski to at least smile at a joke, and even spoke out puns while in the midst of battle. It was actually very amusing, and Skipper will admit that he felt the group was more at ease with him there. Even though sometimes (most times) he'd get on people's nerves, Johnson alays found a way out of it, with really only his charm and winning grin.

He did have a painful past, however. A street thug, really. Johnson never talked openly about his past, but they all new. What he most liked to talk about was his friend Casino, a victim of gang rape, and an awful suicide. Everyone also knew that he was trying to replace Casino, with Private. Which ultimately, was the cause of his end. In all honestly, everyone suspected Johnson saving Private was just a second chance to save Casino.

Skipper put the files in the unfinished pile. He didn't feel like filling them out today.


End file.
